


In the Time of Dragons

by Mozzarella



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragons, I actually don't know what else to tag this but I'm sure I'll think of something, M/M, meanwhile enjoy the dragons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:15:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since childhood, Ori has been fascinated with dragons. They wander the land beyond their little valley town, closed in by mountains--a threat, but only as much as any warg or wild creature. </p><p>They've lived with these creatures on their borders for years, until one day, a great winged dragon, the kind that had not been seen in Middle Earth for nearly a century--flies over the valley. The dragons become restless, attacking caravans and causing other dangerous creatures to move into Mannish and Dwarvish territories, and soon it becomes clear that their valley home is no longer safe.</p><p>And as Ori tries to figure out how to handle the dragon situation, Nori must find a way to hide his not-so-honest work of thieving from his brothers, while Dori has to find a way to protect his family once the home they all grew up in is lost. </p><p>Falling in love was never supposed to be part of the equation, but it's not like anything else has gone according to plan lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Firsts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Sparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/gifts).



> HRBB Fic Entry for asparklethatisblue's dragon AU, where the Ri brothers must survive being driven out of their home by wargs and dragons and other such threats.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 [ **Art by asparklethatisblue**](http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/tagged/in-the-time-of-dragons)

* * *

* * *

 

 

It was no great surprise to anyone that the first word that came from the littlest Ri's littler lips was “dragon”.

 

He enunciated it quite well for an infant, despite his soft, gummy mouth's distinct lack of teeth. Dori had pestered his little brother for weeks about it, blaming Nori for _corrupting_ the babe with his colourful, sometimes frightening tales of the fire drakes roaming the sky and the lands beyond their valley home, beyond the mountains that served well enough to protect them from harm, and the attention of such dangerous beasts.

 

 

Their mother was amused by the whole affair, laughing heartily when her youngest would chant the word over and over as Dori tutted and Nori encouraged him with gestures of great sweeping wings, snapping jaws and great heaving breaths of fire that might have been impressive, if Nori was capable of breathing fire (though Dori often taunted that his breath smelled like a dragon's, and would hold Nori at arm's length when he tried to hit him for it).

 

When Kori died, peacefully, in her sleep, when all her sons were of age, Ori's fascination for the drakes had not waned in the slightest. Even in the possession of a scholar's pick of words and of as many languages as he could study from within the valley, Ori's favourite word remained as it had been when he was a babe—dragon.

 

His fascination, unfortunately, was not shared by his eldest brother, the de facto head of their little family after their mother passed away. Dori forbade him from seeking out the dragons that lived beyond the mountains, which Ori knew he would have done, if not for Nori.

 

Ori loved his fiery-haired brother, admired him and envied him all at once. Nori was happy to join the traders and caravans that travelled out of their valley, and would just as happily disappear for a few months at a time. The first few times it happened, Kori was still around, and much less anxious about the whole affair than Dori was. Nori would send letters and wrapped packages for his family on the very caravans that carried him out, and would eventually return in them himself. Dori, worried sick and ever-disapproving of Nori's spirited little adventures, would not treat him kindly upon his return, a fact that only seemed to amuse the second Ri son as he laid affectionate kisses on his brothers' cheeks and heads and showed them what he'd brought back.

 

Of all the exotic and wonderful things Nori had given to Ori, it was the remains that Ori valued the most. Dragon teeth, scales, claws—Nori would describe the bodies of the dragons that died near the mountains. Small dragons, no bigger than the horses Men rode around on, their teeth and claws and scales small enough to be tokens that Ori carried around with him.

 

“I doubt they get any bigger than that, anymore. Not the new ones anyway. The big ones may have existed back then, but not now.”

 

There was an exception to Nori's claims, though, one that Ori cherished beyond all others. It was a scale, brought back by a merchant who enjoyed Ori's company, his colourful stories, and his warm and comfortable knitwear. The scale was bigger than even the tallest dwarf in their settlement, and shone like an obsidian mirror, with colours dancing over the sheen in the right light. It was given to Ori to be cared for, and plans for a museum were being drafted by the village councillors, if they could spare the time and money for it.

 

Their little village was hidden, but not devoid of trade or interaction with others. It was a safe, happy place, and though danger loomed constantly over the mountains many of their people crossed just to get to other lands, it was no more than any other village in Middle Earth had to face.

 

They were happy there. Safe, prosperous, and happy. For a time.

 

* * *

 

“What is that sound?”

 

Ori rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Dori hurried out the door, climbing the steps out of their home, standing on the ledge that led down to the main road, their house at a level to see much of the valley. Theirs was a cavern built into a cliff, one of the highest in their community.

 

Nori loved the height, and even with his free spirit, his dwarvish side took comfort in the fact that they still lived beneath the earth even while high above it.

 

At this height, it was the brothers Ri who were the first to spot the great shape from afar, a great and terrible roar sounding on the wind.

 

It was bigger than any dragon they'd ever seen, the length and breadth of both its wings enough to cover their entire settlement. It flew high, passing over them at speed, but low enough that the wind beneath its wings buffeted harshly against the low-lying settlements and the trees that grew along the mountain pass. It breathed a sulphurous smoke that darkened the mountain air for an hour after, when all the dwarves gathered together at their town's centre, where the base of the mountain met the flat of the valley.

 

“Do you think we're safe? What if that beast crosses the pass? The mountains are clearly no challenge for it, and it _flies._ ”

 

“It has no reason to come here. Dragons love gold for their hoards, and wide open spaces to roam and fly. We haven't an abundance of either. We are safer here than any of the outer villages and cities this flying one might encounter.”

 

“It's the biggest one I've ever seen that can fly. It must be ancient. One of the named ones.”

 

Dori shook his head, clasping Ori's shoulder. “Come on now, Ori.”

 

“But Dori!” Ori protested. “Its true! There haven't been any big flying dragons in an age! The biggest ones are a little bigger than a horse, and even those are rare.”

 

“They're right, though,” Nori said. “We don't have the riches, nor the space. Whether or not this old one saw us, he won't have been interested in us anyway. What are we, after all? A little valley village with just enough to get by. We're not Erebor, we're not Khazad-dûm. We're perfectly safe.”

 

Dori sighed, reaching for Nori's shoulder, only for the red-haired dwarf to drop out of his grip, winking cheekily as he hurried ahead. Years from now, Dori would remember this moment, and wish with all his heart that his brother had been right.

 

Even when, not a week later, when the attacks began, it became clear that he wasn't. 

 

 


	2. The beginning of the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ori speculates and Nori finds an admirable... asset to their coming journey.

“Nori, I swear, if I have to bind you to the bed-frame and knock you out five times a day, I will.”

 

“You're overreacting! It was just one caravan!”

 

“For Mahal's sake Nori, will you just listen to me for once in your life?”

 

“Why? When have you ever listened to me about such matters anyway?”

 

“Please! Please, just stop arguing!”

 

Nori and Dori were out of breath by the time they turned to Ori, whose outburst had caught them both off-guard.

 

“Nori, please, just listen to Dori this time. I don't think a dragon attack should be taken lightly,” Ori said.

 

“Thank you, Ori,” Dori said primly. Nori scowled, his fingers flexing as though ready to strangle his elder.

 

“Give it a... a week, at least,” Ori said. “Just to make sure nothing else happens! Then go.”

 

Dori looked about ready to argue, but when Nori nodded reluctantly at Ori's suggestion, so did he. It was a wise enough choice, to wait and see.

 

The caravan in question was a trade cart that carried numerous mined riches from the nearest kingdom—the mithril-rich Khazad-dûm. Mithril wasn't something they could mine naturally, though their valley and its mountains did yield enough copper and iron to do them good. There was talk of opening a gold mine on the far side of the valley, where it was supposedly abundant, but they still had to do the cursory checks, which were under-way and delayed by the recent attacks and the restlessness of the dragons beyond the mountains.

 

It was attacked by mid-size dragons, no larger than horses, but they weren't oft found on the roads where a few good guards could slaughter them with a few sharp blades. It was unusual for them to wander so close, let alone attack a caravan for treasures.

 

Yes, dragons loved treasure, but they had natural instincts of self-preservation. Numbers aside (five, by some counts), they'd never have risked their lives on metal and mineral trade caravans.

 

“Unless they were driven away from their homes. Or they found a reason to grow bolder,” Ori said. His study of dragons often made it easier to predict their movements and learn how to handle them, and this behaviour was unusual, to say the least.

 

“Well, certainly they haven't found a reason to grow smarter,” Nori said, shaking his head. “The caravan had a few good guards. Killed one dragon, scattered the rest. Lost some of their goods, but no lives.”

 

“Something must have changed,” Ori said, rifling through books. “Something that disturbed their habitat, perhaps.”

 

“I've seen dragons look at caravans from all the way down in the outer valleys,” Nori said. “Giant bleedin' lizards is all they are. Blink up with their cat eyes and leave the humans be. They know not to attack us in numbers, and usually, lone travellers don't have much by way of loot. We're not even their food! Wild harts, hoofed things in the forest. Tinier animals, squirrels and the like. They have no real reason to go at us now.”

 

“At least not one we've seen...” Ori said slowly, his eyes widening in realization. “Nori!” he said, clapping his book shut. “I need you to bring me with you when you leave next week!”

 

Nori's large but dexterous hand covered Ori's mouth before he could say any more. “Shush! Are you mad, Ori? Do you want Dori to hear? He'll have my skin for garters if I put you in danger, and what makes you think I'd be so eager to do that anyway?”

 

“I need to see,” Ori begged, pushing Nori's hand aside. “I need to observe the valleys. Something's affecting these things, and I have to see. It'll help the town. Please, Nori!”

 

Nori sighed, long and loud, looking up at the stone ceiling as though it would give him answers to unasked questions.

 

“I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but Dori was right. I shouldn'a filled your head with those dragon stories. Now you're lookin' to kill yourself and you want me to help.”

 

“I won't go near them! I won't even stray from the caravan route! I just want to observe them! To see if there's anything going on with them. From afar. Please, Nori.”

 

Nori sighed again. “Well if I can't stop you, I know you'll just sneak on anyway. Learned all your tricks from me, after all.”

 

“So you'll let me?”

 

“Would it make a difference if I didn't?” Nori demanded, and shook his head when Ori shook his in reply. “I'll find some good guards, what came with other caravans. Find us the best, in case it happens a second time.”

 

“Thank you, Nori!”

 

“Don't thank me, because when I come back, I'm gonna strangle you for puttin' me in this difficult position,” Nori said, pointing an accusing finger at Ori as he stomped out the door.

 

* * *

  

Nori didn't like guardsmen. It wasn't something most people knew, for his... ehem, occupation valued secrecy. But he didn't like guardsmen. It wasn't just the antagonism of the lawful and the lawless (the latter side being the one Nori favoured), but the fact that many of the guardsmen he had had the displeasure of knowing were either corrupt and strong or honest and weak. Honesty didn't do you much good when you were weak, and that was how the system thrived. The weak deferred to the strong, the strong did what they wanted, and whether or not what they wanted was within the law was negligible.

 

Nori didn't like guardsmen. He didn't trust them, and as a thief, he valued trust. It wasn't exactly common among thieves, but there was some semblance of it that lived and thrived in the fragile underbelly of black market trade. The kind of trust thieves had was built on mutual distrust, knowing that all that kept them from ratting on each other was profit, and the fear of being ratted on themselves.

  

Guardsmen had a different sort of honour. Where thieves had honour where none was spoken of, guardsmen seemed to love trampling on the honour they parroted without any real fervour.

 

Still. One thing guardsmen and thieves had in common was that their occupations provided profit, and that you could buy loyalty from a guardsman with the right price, at least for a while. There was no dirty dealing on the road, only the value of a few untrustworthy brutes with weapons against some wild creatures who were both hungry and greedy.

 

Nori's business in the bigger cities was the business of nobody but himself, and tradesmen valued his time and his ability to find the best people when it came to caravans. Nori's sense of self-preservation was legendary, and when you were travelling with Nori, safety was ensured, or in the very least, given admirable effort.

  

That meant he knew where to look when he was hiring dumb muscle for a long trip out.

 

The inn often catered to unsavoury folk dressed to the nines as respectable people, but the smarter drinkers always knew to stay in the corners and booths while the bolder, drunker ones took the centre tables. There was a new batch already, come in from nearby settlements. One in particular caught Nori's eye, and he licked his lips as he trailed his gaze over strong, corded arms and tattoos on a shaved head. He looked to be tall for a dwarf, exceptionally big, just the way Nori liked.

 

Well, if he didn't pass Nori's standards for this trip (which were much higher given the value of the cargo), Nori could at least try his luck enticing this one into his bed. 

 

“Nori, behave now,” the barmaid admonished. “Those ones are old soldiers. Don't give them too much grief.”

 

“Soldiers, eh, Nottie? What're they doin' all the way out in our little town, then?” Nori said. Nottila, for all her maturity, giggled in spite of herself.

 

“’twas their duty, they said. Not without extra pay, of course, but I suppose duty's what they send you off with in Erebor.”

 

“Erebor?” Nori said, raising his braided eyebrows in genuine surprise. Erebor, well, that was rare news. He didn't venture so far so often, and certainly not to Erebor, of all places. It was said to be the most secure of all dwarven strongholds in the East. He would have liked to go, if loyalty didn't keep him close enough to come home to his brothers after a few months.

 

“Aye, Erebor,” Nottie said, nodding. “They were in Khazad-dûm at the time, of course. But that one big one in the middle, he's a true longbeard. He'll be finding his way back home soon, no doubt.”

 

“No doubt,” Nori repeated, even more impressed than before. Well, perhaps if what he heard about Erebor's soldiers and guardsmen was true, then this one might actually be the solution to his problem.

 

He brushed the dwarf casually as he greeted the barman, who shook his head at Nori as the redhead laughed, all the while reaching for the visible purse that hung at the soldier's side. Too easily loosed, Nori almost felt disappointed when it slipped into his hand and he dropped the pretence of a greeting to slip away with his bounty—

 

Only to feel a much larger hand grab his wrist, tight enough for him to drop the bag of clinking coins. It thunked heavily to the floor as another equally enormous hand spun him around to face the (deliciously) tall and imposing dwarf, glaring at him in a way that might have frightened another. Fear was the last thing Nori was feeling, though, not with the satisfaction, the relief at the guardsman actually passing his little test, and the lust bubbling up from beneath his skin where the soldier was gripping him.

 

“I don't tolerate thieves with their fingers in my pockets. They usually don't get to keep them,” the larger dwarf threatened. Nori smiled, all teeth, throwing the other off for only a moment.

 

“You're just the one I've been looking for, soldier. You're perfect,” he said. The dwarf gaped at him, utterly confused, and even more so when Nori put the purse back in his hand and the barman gave Nori a little applause for the achievement.

 

“Ah—I don't—was that a test?” the soldier questioned.

  

“Aye,” said the barmaid. “And you passed it,” she added kindly, giving him a free mug of ale. “Congratulations.”

 

“Good to meet ya, soldier,” Nori greeted. “Though I know you'd have appreciated better circumstances than a dwarf like me digging through your pockets. I have a proposition, you see, and—”

 

“No,” the other said firmly. “Not until you explain to me why I'm not arrestin' you right now.”

 

“That's because, believe it or not,” Nori said, winking as he came up with the dwarf's purse again, making him splutter. “I'm paid to do this sort'a work.” He fought off the temptation of the alarmingly heavy little drawstring pouch and handed it back unopened. “And I know some people who'd pay you to do somethin' a bit more your area. Would you be interested in guardin' a caravan back to Khazad-dûm?”

 

The soldier grumbled and grunted, but eventually settled on a nod. “When?” he asked, shortly and gruffly.

 

Nori smiled charmingly. “Two days from now,” he said. “It'll be transportin' a good load of ore and some of our finest silks and seeds and various foodstuffs that might just have a few hungry animals sniffin' about. The ore might get dragons down, though Mahal knows how they're able to sense it. We need good dwarves like you to make sure the caravan gets from point A to B in good shape.”

 

“I understand,” he said. “So will you be part of this caravan?” he questioned, almost... hopefully.

 

“You're in luck, soldier,” Nori said with a wink.

 

“No he's not,” Nottie muttered from aside, sending herself and a few others into guffaws. Nori flipped her casually and she laughed even harder, whatever scandalousness Nori's callousness might have provided lost in good humour.

 

“I know where I'm not wanted,” Nori said, sighing dramatically. “Oh well,” he said, making his way to the door.

 

“Wait!”

 

Nori stopped, tilting his head and looking back over his shoulder.

 

“Yes?” he murmured, eyes full of promise.

 

“Your name. You didn' give it to me,” said the soldier. Any other time, Nori might have given him some spiel about needing to earn it, but he took pity on the dwarf and his oddly honest eyes and smiled.

 

“Nori,” he said simply. “And yours?”

 

“Dwalin. At yer service,” he answered.

 

“I truly hope so,” Nori said quietly, and was gone with a wink and a wave.

 

“You be careful with that one,” said the barman to Dwalin when the redhead had gone. “He's trouble, and not the good kind.”

 

“Oh don't listen to him,” the barmaid interjected. “He's trouble all right. But... the good kind,” she said, smiling. “He's a good dwarf. Be kind.”

 

Dwalin shook his head in confusion, looking down at the purse in his hand. Trouble. He'd never wanted trouble so badly as he did just now, and he didn't know if that was a good thing. 

 

 


	3. The journey begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrest in the valleys, where the dragons roam, as Ori and Nori join a caravan to the dwarven kingdoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow going, but going!

Art by [asparklethatisblue](http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/) who is forever amazing and without flaw

 

 

 

“Oh, but Dori. I feel so guilty for doing this without him,” Ori sighed. 

 

“You're the one who asked me to help you,” Nori said, shaking his head. “You won't be gone long! Two weeks at the soonest, a month at the latest. As long as you leave him a note, he'll at least know when to expect you back. I used to do it all the time. Stopped leavin' notes, eventually.”

 

“Yes, but it's _you_ ,” Ori said. “And I'm... me. I've never been outside this village. Ever. This was a bad idea.” 

 

Nori shook his head, clocking Ori softly under the chin. “Focus on why you want to go in the first place,” he advised. “The dragons? You're doin' this for the village. It's an honour mission. You don't get many of those every day.”

 

Ori relaxed at his brother's words, nodding quickly. “Yes. Um, right. The dragons. I was considering bringing my books, but I'm not sure which ones to pack.”

 

“The kind you can put in a bag, for starters,” Nori said dryly, looking up at the shelf stuffed with tomes too big even now, bigger when Ori had gotten them, heavy spines and enormous pages filled with knowledge Ori assured him was important. 

 

It took him nearly a dozen switches, but eventually, Ori settled on three mid-size books and one enormous tome (which he would carry in his arms, he said when Nori suggested they leave it), ones recording the behaviour of dragons and another about ancients, the enormous dragons that had been gone for an age.

 

The caravan was due to leave early in the morning the next day, and the brothers sat down for a merry supper that Nori had decided to spend for.

 

“What's the occasion?” Dori exclaimed when he came home to the feast. 

 

“I'm leavin' tomorrow,” Nori said. Not a lie, but certainly not the whole truth. “And I thought I'd ease your pain,” he said wryly. 

 

Dori shot him an unimpressed look. “You leave almost every other week now,” he said, sitting himself down primly. “But I won't protest a good meal. Ori, you look green! Are you alright?”

 

Nori cursed silently as Ori nodded. “I'm fine, Dori. I'm just... worried for Nori.”

 

Dori tsked. “Oh, dear. Nori, are you sure you can't wait another day?”

 

“No!” Ori exclaimed just as Nori said the same in a much calmer manner. Nori sighed. “No, Nori shouldn't have to wait because of me,” Ori continued softly. 

 

“And anyway, I already found a good guard for tomorrow's shipment,” Nori said. “You won't believe it, but I got some soldiers all the way from Erebor. _Soldiers._ It'll be safe as it'll ever be, Dori. I promise.” 

 

Dori seemed sceptical (which was no surprise, given that he wore the exact same face in front of Nori nearly half the time) but soothed by the mention of Ereborian soldiers. They had a reputation, as did the kingdom itself. There was no place safer than Erebor, and nobody nobler and stronger and braver than its guards (or so it was said).

 

Neither brother made mention that Nori wouldn't be the only Ri brother on that  _safe_ caravan. If they did, it wouldn't be all that safe anymore. Not for anyone on that caravan, and most definitely not for Nori. If the dragons didn't get him, he had no doubt Dori would. 

 

He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of.

 

“Goodnight Dori,” Ori said quietly when they were all going to bed. It was odd for him to give the eldest Ri a hug, especially for something as mundane as a goodnight, but Dori was too drowsed to think anything more of it. 

 

Before the sun came up the next morning, Nori was already shaking his younger brother awake, and they left the homestead for what they didn't know would be the last time.

 

* * *

 

“Hurry up, Ori,” Nori prompted. Ori's eyes lit up when the lanterns appeared on the end of the path, a slew of them hanging from carts and carriages and fine wagons. There was a warm, yellow glow from the lanterns that offset the blue early morning, where the sun still had yet to rise high enough to bring light. Nori sighed happily, and Ori did the same. It was a beautiful sight.

 

 

 

The chatter was lively though subdued in the early morn, and some of the dwarves who were already there—cart drivers and guards and travellers who paid through for safer transit with major goods—greeted Nori with startling familiarity, something else Ori found himself privileged to see.

 

He loved his brother, and his brother loved him, but having lived in the valley for almost forever meant he never got to see this side of him—the side of Nori that could not be held down, that flitted about whenever he could, making travel a large part of his life.

 

“Ah, here we go,” Nori said, gesturing to the largest wagon in the caravan, beautifully carved and intricately detailed, painted green and brown. “The one who built this cart knew his way around the main paths,” Nori explained, rapping at the wood. “The colours make it difficult to see from afar, what with the woods. Nice and safe. Ah! And look, here are our honourable Ereborian guards. Right on schedule.” 

 

The positively lecherous look Nori threw the biggest guard told Ori it was time to settle in, and he crawled into the back of the wagon as he was instructed. It was not by any means spacious, but Ori found a comfortable spot between rolled up textiles to hunker down.

When the sun came up and they finally began to move, Ori was asleep, leaving him no time to say goodbye to his home.

 

* * *

 

 

“It'll be a two day's ride from Khazad-dûm. We should arrive by nightfall tomorrow if we don't make too many unnecessary pit-stops,” Nori informed those new to the travel. 

 

A few rode ponies, and others were in their carts. There was a new trader, as well as a number of travellers not too keen on making this trek on their own. If there was something many dwarves knew, it was that there was safety in numbers. Even Nori, who was a solitary dwarf when he didn't have his brothers around to prove him otherwise, knew that bigger numbers meant a bigger threat, and a bigger threat often discouraged  _other_ big threats from trying their luck. 

 

They made good time on the roads—high, mountainside paths that overlooked an expanse of tall trees and the occasional clearing. Nori was used to these roads enough that he rolled his eyes when there were gasps of delight and horror as they passed over one of the nests.

 

Nori was quite familiar with this little colony of flightless lizards. None were larger than a Man's horse, and none had the ability to fly, though many had wings on their backs (too small to carry them, it seemed). They crawled around in scores below, walled in on one side by the mountain and flanked by the forest on the other. The mountain pass was one of the few safe places one could go through where a traveller could go unmolested by the beasts. It was when they got to the low roads that things got complicated.

 

He gave a cursory glance down and stopped, his eyes widening as he counted the dragons in their nests.

 

He always kept count. It never hurt to be observant, and this time, what he saw was far from what anyone would call natural.

 

Far below the pass, where Nori once knew there to be dozens of little dragons, now there were swarms, close to a hundred by his count. But that wasn't the worst thing—oh no, the dragons' numbers increasing was bad enough, but among them, Nori spotted the great scaly hide of what could only be described as a  _mother._

 

It was at least five times the size of all the others, resembling a bullfrog, but with a lizard's tail and great wings folded across its back. Their span would have covered Nori's entire village if they were unfolded, and Nori, from the corner of his eye, saw his guard—Dwalin, he remembered—looking down with deeply furrowed brows.

 

“I thought you said this was the safest path,” he said quietly, more worried than angry. 

 

“It is,” Nori assured. “The only other paths are down there,” he added, pointing beyond the forest. “And none of those dragons can fly.”

 

“Not even the big one?” 

 

“Too heavy,” Nori said. “A dragon that size? Even with hollow bones like a bird has, it couldn't take flight. Not the right shape for it.” 

 

“You an expert on these things, then?” Dwalin remarked. “The dragons?” 

 

“Ha, no,” Nori said. “My brother is,” he added.

 

“The young one, asleep in the caravan?” Dwalin asked. 

 

“Aye. Been right fascinated with them since he was up to my knee. Even before that, I think, though I'm not the one who remembers it. Wouldn'a let him come along if I weren't sure he'd just go after me anyway. Safer with me than with someone who'd take advantage.” 

 

“A troublemaker, then?” Dwalin said curiously. Nori laughed, a full, hearty chortle, his head thrown back. When he recovered himself, Dwalin was still staring at him, eyes wide, then immediately narrowed. 

 

“You're askin' the wrong person, soldier,” Nori said, chuckling as he wiped a tear from his eye. 

 

“I shouldn'a asked then,” Dwalin said, something like a grimace stretching one side of his mouth. “Clearly he learned how ta make trouble from his brother,” he added wryly. 

 

“I have no idea what you're talkin' about, Mister Dwalin,” Nori drawled. 

 

“Hmm, of course ya don't. Yer type never does.” 

 

Nori raised a braided eyebrow. “My type?”

 

“My brother is an overseer of royal affairs in Khazad-dûm. I'm a guardsman by trade. Despite what ya might think, I'm not completely dense,” Dwalin said lowly. “I know who ye are.” 

 

Nori frowned, whatever bravado he might have had draining. He considered moving his pony away, but knew that would do no good. He couldn't run from this dwarf, not out here in the wilds. It would be suicide to separate from the group.

 

“Lookin' a bit pale, there.” 

 

“Bein' threatened isn't good for my complexion,” Nori said harshly. 

 

“Threatened?” To his credit, Dwalin looked genuinely surprised. “I'm not threatenin' ya.”

 

“Oh, is that right? So you're _not_ goin' to try and blackmail me for bein' a criminal? Bring an ol' thief back to get a few notches under your belt for your superiors?” 

 

Dwalin's brows were furrowed deeply in confusion. “ _Former_ thief,” he said. “Ye did yer time. You were pardoned.” 

 

“Makin' a distinction, then? Quite a change from all the other guardsmen I've met in the mithril mines,” Nori spat. 

 

Dwalin growled, startling Nori out of his aggression. “There're bad ones in every lot. I'm sorry ya ever had to deal with 'em. Ye have nothin' to fear from me,” he assured. “Unless you plan to do somethin' unlawful while you're there.”

 

Nori relaxed visibly. “No more'n the usual,” he said softly. “A drunken night of revelry, a surreptitious meeting with traders who think they're so clever raisin' up prices and then bringin' them down and callin' 'em cheap there. Warmin' the sheets with a choice piece. Been too close to losin' fingers to take that sort of a risk again.”

 

It wasn't entirely a lie. Nori never said he'd stopped stealing, though Dwalin didn't seem to pick up on that. He was simply more careful about what he took nowadays, weighing risks and often finding the consequences much too steep. He didn't steal (often) anymore, especially not in Khazad-dûm, where the guardsmen in the lower regions were out for his blood. Sure, he missed a golden (or in this case, mithril) opportunity to examine the veins of sparkling mineral in the mines, but he couldn't be too careful.

 

“Have somebody waitin' fer ya there?” Dwalin asked, his voice pitched low. It was tentative, almost inviting, if Nori was reading him right. 

 

“A good, hearty drink, and a beautiful, glowin' city,” Nori answered. “A place for my brother to stay. Friends who I trust. Beyond that? Well...” He smirked. “None. Unless you've got an offer.” 

 

“Hmm. We'll have to see how well ye behave,” Dwalin said, and oh, yes, that was almost certainly an offer. Nori opened his mouth to reply, only to have their conversation interrupted by a screeching wail, one that echoed up from the foot of the mountain, sending some of the ponies into a frenzy. Nori struggled to keep his under control, rearing dangerously close to the edge of the road from where he'd been observing the valley, a steep fall threatening to have them both. His pony righted itself quickly, to his relief, but when he saw what was happening down below, his relief was short-lived.

 

 

 

The dragons were crawling around restlessly, and from the forest emerged a figure that send chills down Nori's spine as he urged his horse faster along the path. “Come on,” he said. “He have ta go, now. Get the other carts movin'. We ain't takin' a rest 'til we get far away from 'ere.”

 

“Nori?” 

 

Nori closed his eyes, biting his lip harshly, and then turned to his brother, whose head had popped out of the cart and was looking at him with wide, fearful eyes.

 

“That was...” 

 

“We can't stop now, Ori,” Nori said seriously. Ori set his mouth grimly and jumped out of the cart, looking down over the valley and spotting what his brother had. 

 

“It's the... the winged dragon,” Ori said, eyes wide. 

 

And indeed, there it was, the dragon that had flown over their valley and scared the daylights out of everyone there, the dragon that was the right shape, whose wings were the right size for flight—the one dragon that could get at them, could destroy their entire caravan, all the way up on the path where no other dragon could reach. They had no name for it, though “great terror” and “ancient fear” sprung to mind. Dragons had not taken wing in an age, and even then there were Elves around to remember what had happened the last time they did. The gravity of the winged dragon's presence (and the implication of its return) was not lost on anyone.

 

Least of all the travellers, who murmured and muttered their fears as the ponies were urged into trots and the carts were pulled faster. Ori got a pony of his own, if only to speak to his brother (and their newfound guardsman companion) about his thoughts on the matter.

 

“The last great dragon was Smaug the Terrible, driven out of Erebor years ago,” Ori said, and Nori noted how Dwalin flinched visibly at the mention. “He disappeared over the far mountains, never to return. It was said he could span a valley from head to tail if he were laid out like a measuring rope, and that he was slain long ago by wizards on the other side of the world.” 

 

“P'rhaps he left a brood, if there're dragons near big as he flyin' around now,” Dwalin said darkly. 

 

“There's no mention of female dragons of flight, not in Smaug's time,” Ori said, rifling through his tome. “The last seen was Gildain, who was said to have blown golden flames from her throat and had four wings rather than two—a hundred and twenty years before Smaug attacked Erebor.”

 

“That valley dragon's female,” Nori said grimly. “I seen 'er watchin' over eggs, and then a brood. All flightless, o'course, and all no bigger than a horse. But who knows what she'll be up to now, what with this flying one makin' waves.”

 

“I'll have ta advise my brother on fortifyin' the gates if the beasts decide to stray from where they are now,” Dwalin said. “If those dragons make trouble...” 

 

“It's not just the dragons,” said Ori. “If they wander out of their habitat, smaller predators will be, too. And there are lots who could be a threat to us travellers.” 

 

“You don't mean...” 

 

Ori nodded grimly. “Wargs. Trolls. Orcs, even, the ones living along the mountain. This sort of change will spark something enormous, something I don't think we're ready for.”

 

Nori wished he didn't have to agree with Ori, but he did. He did, and he looked back on the path, for the first time in a long time wondering just how safe his brother was, left behind in the valley.

 

 


End file.
